


i tell my piano the things i used to tell you

by all_their_intricacies



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship - mentioned, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_their_intricacies/pseuds/all_their_intricacies
Summary: I did well.I wish you saw.
Relationships: Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	i tell my piano the things i used to tell you

**Author's Note:**

> are y’all up for another sad fic?
> 
> inspired by [this graphic](https://8-bitfiction.tumblr.com/post/168005267405) and [this ask](https://iamtheprotagoneil.tumblr.com/post/631116993312014336/the-most-heartbreaking-thing-is-watching-neil-just) on tumblr
> 
> // title is from [_a quote by frédéric chopin_](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/275462-it-is-dreadful-when-something-weighs-on-your-mind-not)

_‘I did well,’_ was what Neil would think to himself as he went through the years in inversion. He would find himself at the end of a particularly rough day, when the silence stretched on for too long, left too much room for melancholy and yearning to take over, and he’d repeat the phrase to himself. He’d say it as words of affirmation, reminding himself of how far he’s come, in spite of everything. In spite of how difficult – how _painful_ – it has been; in spite of how much it has taken from him; in spite of how easy it would be to just give up, to call it quits and return to a time where loneliness and this dreadful sense of loss weren’t constant.

In spite of all of that, Neil was still here, still moving backwards in time, still putting more and more distance between himself and the other half of his soul.

 _‘I wish you saw,’_ Neil would say to the traces that other half had left behind in his mind, scattered and disorganized from the many times Neil had gone through them in search for nostalgic comfort. Foolish as it was, Neil wanted confirmation – validation that everything he’s given up for, up to this point, wasn’t at all in vain.

Absently, he _knew_ it wasn’t. Absently, he _knew_ The Protagonist had seen; had known how well Neil did; had been more than grateful for it. Absent thoughts, however, were hard to find comfort in. They could only serve as a lull – a record Neil kept playing on repeat to lure sleep closer and capture him in its cold embrace.

_‘I did well,’_ was, also, what Neil thought to himself after he’d accomplished the most important part of the mission he’d been sent to this point in time for. Back at base, Neil sat beside a toilet bowl where he’d emptied his entire stomach content into, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and repeating the phrase to himself as words of commendation. His eyes stung, but he didn’t allow himself to cry. There was no reason to, after all, as he did well, in spite of everything. In spite of the nerves rattling his bones; in spite of the churning in his stomach when he’d caught The Protagonist’s eyes, staring back at him with a lopsided mix of relief and caution; in spite of how much Neil had wanted to rush over, to take The Protagonist into his arms and warn him about what to come.

In spite of it all, Neil never gave in to that urge, never hesitated as he ‘shot’ the antagonist to save The Protagonist’s life.

 _‘I wish you saw,’_ Neil said to the ghost he’d created in his mind for self-destructive moments like this one. When he searched for the ghost, though, Neil’s breath caught in his throat at how different his creation looked then. He looked _young_ , like he could be _this_ Protagonist, but he looked at Neil with recognition, with adoration and the affection that Neil had been—not _expecting_ , per se, but _hoping_ to see in his real-life replica. The uncanny image caused the churning to return to Neil’s stomach, and he found himself bent over the toilet bowl once again, heaving and panting as there was nothing else to let out.

When Neil settled back on floor again, he bit his onto his lower lip so hard that it began to bleed. If he was going to cry, then it should be from physical pain that he could stop at any time he wanted, rather than the wildfire raging over his insides.

_‘I did well,’_ was, once again, what Neil thought to himself after his (second) initial meeting with The Protagonist. When the adrenaline high from their successful infiltration and escape from Singh’s residence was starting to run off, Neil repeated the phrase to himself as words of encouragement. His breaths might be frantic; his skin might crawl with uneasiness, but he needed to understand that he did well, in spite of everything. In spite of how under-prepared he’d felt sitting in that yacht club after years, months, weeks, days, _hours_ of anticipating for this very meeting; in spite of how agonizing it had been to sit next to the man Neil’s spent _years_ loving, and introduce himself as a stranger; in spite of how much Neil wanted to follow said man back to his hotel room after, to worm his way inside using the charms (and knowledge) Neil kept under his uncuffed sleeves.

In spite of it all, Neil had made it through, weaving half-truths and lies by omission into such an intricate and secure pattern that unraveling them would take an expert that The Protagonist still quite wasn’t. Neil had stood at the crossroad between the dreadful loneliness of his own hotel room and the self-indulging company of the man who looked like Neil’s lover, and decided on the tougher path.

 _‘I wish you saw,’_ Neil said to ghost in his mind, no longer caring that he was still an amalgamation of _this_ Protagonist and the one Neil had left behind. This time, the ghost responded with a soft smile, telling Neil that he did see. Neil told him that it wasn’t the same thing, that it wasn’t the way Neil wanted it to go, that _‘he isn’t **you.** ’_ The smile fell from the ghost’s face, and there was nothing else he could do to comfort Neil. He could only say that _‘he isn’t, but he should be enough, for now.’_

It was more than Neil could handle right then – the forlorn look on the ghost’s face; the gloomy way his voice echoed in Neil’s brain – so he closed his eyes for a moment of avoidance from it. He counted one, two, three, four, then _five_ , and opened his eyes to find the ghost nowhere to be seen. Sleep, for that night, proved to be just as elusive.

_‘I did well,’_ was, once more, what Neil thought to himself after The Protagonist inverted for the first time, already gunning to leave the airlock without any practical training for it. Neil watched the door scroll down until it was shut, then turned and found himself a vacant spot in the far corner of the room, where no one was paying attention to. Neil stood, facing the wall, and repeated the phrase to himself as words of comfort. The mix of trepidation and shame was becoming too unforgiving, so he wrapped his arms around himself and reminded himself that he did well, in spite of everything. In spite of how terrible he’d felt as The Protagonist pinned him against the glass panel and accused him of unthinkable things; in spite of how shameful it had been to omit the truth – _lying_ , he has been _lying_ – to the man he loved – _looked_ like that man he loved; in spite of how ready Neil had been to spill it all, already, to let the words forming a blockage at the back of his throat slip from his mouth and soothe away the sheer contempt in The Protagonist’s eyes.

In spite of it all, Neil had held back, swallowed the words down, and made it through with the integrity of the mission still intact.

 _‘I wish you saw,’_ Neil whispered into the dark space where the dimmed overhead lights couldn’t reach, where his imagination could conjure up another ghost for him. The ghost reached out from the darkness and placed a consoling hand on Neil’s cheek. What an awful feeling it was – what a horrible, _heartbreaking_ feeling it was – to expect warmth and be met with emptiness.

Neil bit back on the sob, letting it stuck behind his throat. The only solace he could find was in the beep of his watch, cutting short his depressive daze to alert him of the next phase in this mission. He took a deep breath, mentally pulling himself together, and turned around. He put on his air mask and marched out to find the real-life replica of the ghost he just saw.

_‘I did well,’_ was, one last time, what Neil thought to himself as he sat on the Chinook taking him towards the end. He strained his neck to look out the window behind him, watching as The Protagonist’s figure became smaller and smaller. He repeated the phrase to himself as words of acknowledgement, giving himself a pat on the back for how well he did – how well he _has_ done – in spite of _everything_. In spite of how heart-wrenching it had been to say goodbye, even with the practice Neil already had; in spite of how hard it had been to walk away from The Protagonist who kept trying hold him back; in spite of how much Neil had wanted to, to stay instead of leaving while knowing what was waiting for him on the other side.

In spite of it all and much more, Neil had kept it short with a graceful promise of the future, and then turned and dragged himself further and further away from who would later become the other half of his soul.

 _‘I wish you saw,’_ Neil told the speck of dust where The Protagonist once stood, indistinguishable from the sand around him with the distance between them. Neil only realized he’d said the words out loud, when suddenly, Ives said, “He did see. You wouldn’t have been here if he hadn’t. You, of all people, should already know that.”

Ives paired his words with a pensive look in his eyes – not judging; just considering Neil with a deep understanding. Absently, Neil’s always known what Ives just said were true; he’d just been so blinded by his own sorrow to truly accept it. Now, though, with Ives’ words of confirmation – _validation_ – sorrow was replaced with something akin to acceptance – to the certainty that all that he’s done, everything from the moment he walked into that turnstile all those years ago and up to this point, has not been in vain.

Neil smiled at Ives, tacitly thanking him for the much-needed break he had offered Neil – although Neil didn’t think the other man truly realized it. Neil sat back in his seat, eyes catching on the ghost sitting in the empty seat across from him. Neil smiled at him too, no longer hating himself for the mismatched combination Neil’s brain had made of him. Neil knew now, that there was no _this_ and _that_ Protagonist. They were one and the same; always has been.

The ghost smiled at Neil in return, telling him that _‘I love you_.’ It wasn’t what Neil had been wishing for but it should be enough for now. Neil closed his eyes and told himself that ‘ _it **is** enough, for now.’_

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on my [protagoniel blog](https://iamtheprotagoneil.tumblr.com/). prompt is accepted, although i can only fill it when inspiration hits so please be patient with me.
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. honestly, i read and check each one; y'all are so precious to me <3


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